


Pyrite

by deskclutter



Category: The Sandman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-22
Updated: 2010-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-10 05:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deskclutter/pseuds/deskclutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More of Merv Pumpkinhead at the wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pyrite

  
**Title:** Pyrite  
**Day/Theme:** February 8 / fool's reward  
**Series:** Sandman  
**Character/Pairing:** Merv Pumpkinhead  
**Rating:** G  
On the night he's put back together like so many like so many broken bits stuck higgledy-piggledy back into himself, Merv Pumpkinhead gets drunk. 'Course, he was always bits of higgledy piggledy anyway. It comes with being a scarecrow.

Other bits and pieces of the Dreaming are crawling back: Abel, the Fashion Thing, and about a kajillion other bastards who died the other day when Merv died. He watched them die, and he brought out a fuckin' bazooka for them, got blasted to pieces for his trouble. Was that any way to thank a guy? Nope. But, hell, he's alive, the birdie's pissed off, and Lucien's just plain piss-drunk. It's a _good_ night to be alive, even if it's at His Nibs' expense. Fell over the wall like Humpty fucking Dumpty and can't be put back together again. Even if he can't see Fiddler's Green anywhere, even though the stream of resurrected dreams and nightmares have stopped streaming in as bits and pieces and have stopped streaming in at all. Everyone else 'cept Gilbert and the gatekeepers are back, and Merv saw them on the way here, so he knows _they're_ alive.

Merv's not stupid. If _he's_ back, there's no way Gilbert wouldn't've been brought back, because there's _no one_ who appreciates the man behind the scenes, not even you. If Gilbert isn't back, it's because he doesn't want to be back.

Merv looks around for the people he saw die, and the ones he fuckin' _died_ for, and y'know what? They're all here except Gilbert, and not one of _them's_ thanking him for pulling out the big guns, noooo, they're kickin' around, no need to thank ol' Merv. That's no reward, that's no gold. There's _nothing_ but the cheap stuff which doesn't have much in it 'cept the shine.

"Refill!" Merv bawls, holding up his tankard and lurching for the keg. But they're alive and so's he. This much's good enough for ol' Merv.


End file.
